


Tavern of Elora

by mrlcoleman



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-04-21 16:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrlcoleman/pseuds/mrlcoleman
Summary: Geralt of Rivia meets Sorrea, a tavern wench, during a monster hunt.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. A Stranger Comes To Town

**Author's Note:**

> Sorrea of Westfell is an OC.  
More chapters to come, but I'm tired, lol.
> 
> New(1/27/2020):
> 
> Portait of Sorrea  
http://onapalehorse.co.vu/post/190488086101
> 
> Geralt looks like Henry Cavill's Geralt

"Ale and a bath," Geralt thought to himself. Now that he had coin from slaying a town's nuisance, he could afford a room with an actual bed, ale, and a bath.  
Hoping down from the saddle, he tied Roach to a post in front of a small 2 story inn. The chimney puffed out clouds of smoke, promising a warm interior. Grabbing his coin and gear from Roach, he rubbed her head and spoke to her like a friend, which she was. "I'll be back out for you soon." Roach nudged him in understanding. 

Slinging his swords and gear over his back, he pushed open the door to the inn. The warmer air and boisterous noise from inside was a stark contrast to the cold quiet outside.  
He picked a table in a darkened, empty corner, and sat with his back to the wall, watching those around him. Across the room, a wench made eye contact and slowly made her way toward him. 

Walking past the loud men, laughing and making vulgar gestures, Sorrea stood next to the table belonging to a large man in a small dimly lit corner. His dark armor was almost impossible to see, but his white hair and golden eyes seem to shine with a light of their own. Setting down a mug of ale, she offered a greeting.  
"Good evening sir, what can I get for you?"  
Those bright golden eyes looked up from their people watching, directly into her own, before looking back into the crowd behind her. There was a pause so long she almost repeated herself, before he responded. 

"Whatever food you have, and more ale. A room, and a stable for my horse."  
His voice was deep, and judging by his tone, he clearly spoke as little as possible.  
Clearing her throat, she nodded and walk off to gather more ale and a bowl of venison stew, and let the stable boy know to ready a stall.  
Setting down the ale and stew she lingered for a moment, squinting to see more of his darkened features. "I'll be back shortly." She said, before heading upstairs to find an available room. 

Geralt watched her walk away up the stairs, before eating. He was all too familiar with people being terrified of him. Or hating him. But that's not what that was. She was...curious about something. Maybe trying to decide if she could ask him to kill another beast; there might be more coin in this town yet.  


Finishing the ale and stew, he leaned back to continue watching those around him; groups of loud, rowdy men filled the inn, drinking, singing, and laughing. The few women in the room either worked here, or were "working" here. The latter of which he had no interest in tonight.  
The wench was back from upstairs, tending to the other patrons of the inn. Rather ordinary looking, in a wine colored grown and apron. Dark brown hair in a single braid from the top of her head to just below the shoulders, frizzy and mussed from a hard days work. Her eyes were a bright green that stood out from her sun tanned skin. He eyed the outline of her body, and wondered what it looked like under the plain clothing.

After having made sure a room was available, Sorrea returned downstairs to continue plying the rowdy men with more ale. In her experience, the drunker they were, the more they spent, and no one hates having extra coin.  
Feeling as though she was being watched, she looked up to see the man in the corner coming towards her.  
Moving away from the crowd, she paused after just a few steps, forcing him to move into the light.  
He was much taller than herself with a large imposing frame. His white hair came down to his shoulders, his golden eyes set under dark brows. A few days worth of stubble covered his chin, and a silver medallion hung from his neck.  
"You're a witcher." She said quietly. 

Geralt stared at her for a moment. This was the part where he was cursed at and run from town- if they didn't need his services first. Yet she stood before him, not moving or speaking, clearly waiting for a response.  
"Here." He held out his hand to give her more than enough coin to pay for his room and food for him and Roach.  
She pocketed the money but didn't move, instead her green eyes were full of questions as they searched him.  
"Hmm." Roach needed him. Or he needed Roach. Either way, he needed some air.

Sorrea watched the witcher walk out the door before returning to the group of men. After filling their mugs to the brim, she set down the jug and followed him outside.  
As she stepped out into the cool night, she saw him rounding the corner towards the stables. Walking as quietly as she could, she trailed behind, stopping to hide behind a post and watch him.  
She'd never seen a witcher in person, but she heard the stories. Mutated monster hunters with magical abilities. Maybe those mutations caused his unique white hair and golden eyes. She knew she shouldnt be here, but her curiosity had the better of her. 

"Just a couple nights Roach. We'll move on once I'm sure there isn't more coin to be made here." Roach made a noise of agreement, she was just as pleased as Geralt to have a warm, comfortable place to sleep tonight.  
The wind stirred, sending a light breeze around him, carrying a scent of lavender and ale. His heightened senses pinpointed it as coming from behind a post not far away. Someone was watching him. Slowly grabbing a sword, he turned toward the darkened post.  
"Are we going to fight, or will you show yourself?"

"Damn it." Sorrea thought to herself. Stepping from behind the post and moving closer to the stable, she locked eyes with him. His expression quickly changed from confusion, to calm, and back to confusion. 

"What are you doing?" His deep voice carried in the cool, quiet night, settling in her bones. Slowing walking towards him, she held his gaze. "I'm sorry. I've just never met... a witcher, before." She stopped just far enough to be arms length away. Glancing at the sword raised by his side then back up to his face, illuminated by the torch hanging before his stable.  
She simply couldn't see enough of him to satisfy her curiosity. The fire of the torch danced in his eyes, coloring his hair to match. His jaw was firm as if carved from stone, yet his lips looked soft. His large arms, though obscured by armor, were still prominent enough to make her wonder what they looked like in just a shirt. Or nothing at all. 

Returning his sword to its sheath, Geralt returned to Roach. "Well now you have."  
He pet Roach, hoping if he ignored the wench she would go away. Hearing her light footfalls, he glanced over his shoulder to see her walking past him, to the other side of Roach, petting her while pulling grass from her mane. He didn't like other people touching his horse, but she was clearly a brave woman, and a kind one given her treatment of Roach.  
He inhaled deeply, the scent of lavender and ale even stronger now; coming from her. This close, he could see the top of her breasts, watching as they rose and fell with every breath. 

"My name is Sorrea." She knew he didn't care what her name was, but it was an easier way to find his. Give and take.  
Stroking the horses neck, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was watching her, staring at her. His gaze shifted away from her body, to his horse.  
"Geralt. This is Roach."

"Hello Roach. Geralt." She gave him a small smile then moved around Roach to stand directly beside him. He smelled of leather and dirt, a common smell for someone working in a tavern; but there was more. The way it smells on a summer morning, warm and green.  
"Your room. Second to last. Would you like me to take anything in?" 

" No." He looked down at her, wondering why she was still here.  
She nodded and gave Roach one more pat before walking off, back to the inn.  
Making sure Roach was secure for the night, he gathered his things and headed to the bath house.  


A squat building behind the inn, the bath house consisted of 1 large pool of water, and a fireplace currently burning. Not ideal, but it would do. Removing his armor and clothes, he stepped into the luke warm water, scrubbing off as much dirt as possible, rinsing his face and hair.  
Finished bathing, he stood by the fire drying off, before pulling clothes onto damp skin, and heading to his room.  


There were now fewer people in the tavern, having stumbled home or gone upstairs with one of the other working women.  
He saw Sorrea at the far end of the room, scrubbing a table and gathering dirty mugs. She didn't see him, and he didn't want her too. Something about her was different from peoples normal reactions to his presence; and for some reason he liked it.  


Opening the door, he found a dark room with one small window, and a single bed. Dropping his things under the window, he laid down on the bed, appreciating not sleeping outside on the ground. Moonlight filtered into the dark room, and before long, muffled sounds around him lulled him to sleep, the scent of lavender and ale on his mind.


	2. A Hero Goes On A Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt fights a Clakemora.

Sorrea stretched and rolled over, slowly beginning to wake. Climbing out of bed and dressing, she brushed her hair, pulling it half up, long tendrils flowing around her face. Keeping the town's inn and tavern up and running required early days and long nights, by the end of which she was always exhausted.  
Leaving her room, she passed Geralt's door, pausing only briefly to try to hear if he was awake.

Geralt woke as the first rays of sunlight began to shine through the small window and across his face. He heard someone milling about in the room next to his; light footfalls pausing outside his door before moving on. Stepping out into the hallway, he caught the now familiar scent. He followed it next door; this must be Sorrea's room. Leaving her doorway, he headed down to the tavern. 

Sorrea was in the back of the room, make plates of bread and fruits for the mornings guests. Reclaiming his table from last night, he watched her mingle with the growing crowd. 

Moving swiftly from one group to another, Sorrea smiled at the people coming in for their morning meals and company. Plans of what their days would hold and tales of their nighttime adventures filled the air around her. This was her favorite part of working in the tavern; the stores.  
She subtly glanced around the room, searching for someone easily recognizable. Spotting Geralt at his table from last night, she smiled and nodded to the people currently regaling her with their tales, before making him a plate.

"Good morning Geralt." Her voice was soft and pleasant as she smiled at him.  
"Sorrea." He plucked an apple from the plate, biting the red flesh. Still unmoving, she watched him as if waiting for more. He spoke quietly, barely audible over the growing din in the tavern."You can sit it you'd like." 

Sitting across from him, Sorrea watched him eating. How does someone make eating an apple look so graceful and appealing?  
"Are you leaving today?" She hoped the answer was no, but from what she knew of witchers, they followed the coin.

Geralt eyed Sorrea, hearing her disappointment at the thought.  
"I need more money if I'm to stay any longer." He watched her face shift from disappointment to one more relaxed. Her voice sounded more upbeat when she spoke, though she still kept her voice low. "There's something in the lake at the edge of town. May be your kind of thing?"

He met her eyes, and stared for a moment. He wasn't used to staying in one place for too long, but he didn't feel quite ready to leave; to leave her. "Hmm. Maybe." Standing, he looked around the room then back at her. "I need to feed Roach." 

Cleaning away his cup and plate, she tended to the now full room of tavern guests. She saw Geralt pass back through the room, all eyes following him as the cacophony of noise dropped noticeably. He didnt look at anyone as he went upstairs. 

"Fuckin' mutant witcher" spit one of the regulars. A squat and red face man, he wasnt always the kindest. Sorrea turned and glared at him. "Are you going to take up arms then? Slay the beasts of this world?" The man waved her off while others laughed. She herself wasn't sure what to think of the witcher, but she knew his kind did things no one else would dare; and they did it all while being scorned and cursed just for existing. 

Setting the jug of wine on the counter a little too aggressively, she went outside to clear her head, and found herself walking towards the stables for Roach. 

"Hello Roach." She said, feeling calmer already. "Your rider takes good care of you." She brushed the mare and smiled, speaking to her as if she were a dear friend. "There's said to be a monster in the lake of Elora. The mayor would pay a hefty bag of coin if he rid us of it. You two could stay a while longer." Roach huffed and nudged her in agreement.

Geralt walked up to the stable, leaning on the frame. "Where is lake Elora?" His deep voice startled Sorrea, who had been unaware of his presence. Looking from Roach to Geralt, she studied him in the full sunlight. His white hair framed a jaw so angular she thought it to be carved from marble. Golden eyes, lighter now in the sunshine, contrasted perfectly with his dark brows.  
Swords and armor at his feet, he wore only the leather pants and linen tunic, both of which did very little to hide the thick muscles along his entire body. Now she _really_ wanted to see what was underneath. To follow that patch of dark hair and see just how far it went. Sorrea took a deep breath and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. The more she saw of him, the more her curiosity grew. 

"I'll need Roach if I'm to earn myself enough coin to stay here..." he really did need to go. Seeing her with Roach made him want to smile, even though he normally hated anyone touching her. 

"It's just east of here, not too far."  
She patted Roach once more before walking over to stand next to him, her now familiar scent wrapping around him. He inhaled deeply, wanting to draw in every bit of it that he could. She was mere inches from him, and he noticed things about her he previously tried to ignore. That her green eyes had a ring of blue, her face dotted with tiny freckles. She stood a good foot shorter than him, and her soft body was curved in the places he enjoyed most. He wanted to get this job over with and find out what she hid beneath that wine colored dress.  
"Be careful Geralt." She gave him a small smile and touched his arm before disappearing around the corner.

After getting Roach saddled, and pulling on his armor, Geralt rode off toward the lake. A short time later, he could hear the water gently rolling against the shore. He tied Roach to a tree, and grabbed his sword, vials at the ready.  
It didn't take him long to figure out the monster was a Clakemora; large shelled creatures with strong claws and razor sharp pincers.  
Geralt walked the lake shores, looking for a moss covered hole where they liked to bury themselves, waiting. Once on the opposite side of the lake from where he came, he found the Clakemora's hiding place. After catching a few small rodents in the surrounding woods, he baited the beast, throwing them on the opening of it's burrow.  
Three rats later, the Clakemora finally emerged. Easily as tall as himself and three times as large, the beast was covered in thick green and brown carapaces. His best chances would be the soft underbelly, or the gaps between the shells. 

Downing a vial, he walked silently around the Clakemora. He lunged at the massive beast, aiming for the soft joint between the claw and arm. At that moment, the Clakemora turned and raised it's claw, striking Geralt and sending him backwards, his sword flying from his grasp. The beast pounced on him, pinning him to the ground, the claw around his neck. Geralt stabbed at the Clakemora with a dagger, catching it in its soft side, only wounding it. 

The beast screamed and began to drag Geralt into the water. Drug past his sword, he grabbed it, successfully striking the beast, severing the massive claw from it's body. The beasts screams grew even louder as it thrashed and wailed in agony. Geralt stood, ready to fight. The Clakemora gnashed it's pincers, slicing open his arm. "Fuck!" He circled the monster, slowly backing it away from the water, closer to the treeline, where a large fallen tree would be of use to end the beast. Running for the tree, he leapt, landing on his back on the other side of the ground. The Clakemora came over the trunk, exposing his soft underside to Geralts blade. Slicing from bottom to top, the beast gave one final strangled scream before collapsing. Lake water and viscera poured from the beasts body, putrid and hot.  
He grabbed the giant claw, and walked back to Roach. Securing his sword, and stashing the claw in a saddle bag, he waded into the lake, rinsing off as much as he could. His other clothes were still at the tavern so this would have to do for now.  
"Let's go Roach." He said, turning back towards town.


	3. What Waits At Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt returns from the fight with the Clakemora, and discovers something much more valuable than just coin.

The sun was beginning to set, when Geralt returned to the tavern. He stood just inside, scanning the room for Sorrea, when he found her at a table by the stairs. The drop in conversation got her attention, and she looked up to see him staring at her. 

He was much dirtier than when he left, but at least he'd returned. She released a breath she didnt know she was holding. The closer she came to him, the more she noticed a terrible odor, presumably something to do with the monster. 

"Oh lord, what is that smell Geralt?" She tried not to laugh while also trying not to gag.  
"Clakemora guts. The lake didn't help much." His voice contained a smile, though his face stayed stoic as ever.  
"Come. You'll run out all my business smelling like that." She headed toward the bath house, gesturing for him to follow her. 

Once inside, she added a few logs to the fireplace helping warm the room and water faster.  
She turned to see Geralt removing his armor, his movement slower than usual. It was then that she noticed the gash on his arm. Despite it's nasty appearance, he made no complaints. 

"Geralt! What happened?" Her concern apparent, looking from the wound to his eyes.  
"A monster tried to eat me." He said matter of factly.  
A look of exasperation crossed her face; he was so flippant for having a chunk of his arm torn open.  
"Stay here. Bathe." She gestured to the pool before leaving to retrieve clean clothes and bandages. 

Returning with fresh clothes, bandages and tinctures for his wound, Sorrea stopped short seeing him in the pool.  
His body was submerged just below his waist, his upper half exposed. The muscles of his body were carved and well defined. Dark hair on his chest ran down to his navel, disappearing into the water. The scars on his body were raised and bumpy, reminders of the battles won.

Composing herself, she walked around the edge of the pool and sat next to him.  
"I've brought bandages for your arm and clean clothes. We'll have yours washed."  
Geralt nodded but said nothing. She gently cleaned and bandaged his wound, trailing her fingers over the muscles and scars.

"I take it you got your money then?" She asked, one hand remaining on his arm.  
Turning his head slightly, he nodded. "Enough for a few more days." He glanced at her soft hands resting on his shoulder, savoring the feeling.  
"I'm glad to hear it. You and Roach make lovely company." She trailed her fingers over his shoulder, to his chest. The fire crackled, the only sound in the quiet night besides their breathing. 

Geralt closed his eyes as her hands moved from his shoulders, down to his chest, massaging as she went. He wasn't used to being treated this way. Monster hunts usually ended only in ale and a place to sleep; women if he had enough money. 

But Sorrea was different. She gave without taking. Even now, her hands only meant to comfort. Grabbing her hand, she stopped. "What are you doing Sorrea?"

Pulling her hands away from him, she apologized before standing. She grabbed his dirty clothing, and indicated the fresh ones she'd brought. "I'll have these washed." She hurried out of the bath house, back to the tavern. 

Confused, Geralt left the pool, and yanked on the clothing she had left. Entering the tavern, he scanned the room, looking for Sorrea, but she wasn't here.  
Following the smell of lavender flowers, he ended up at her door. 

"What is wrong with you Rea? Foolish woman." Sorrea paced her room, whispering to herself for being so foolhardy. She was barely even aware her hands had began tracing the muscles in his arms and chest until he stopped her. A knock sounded at her door and she stopped pacing and took a deep breath before opening it.

Geralt stood in the doorway, a fire behind his eyes as he stared into hers.  
"I'm sorry, I don't kn--" her words were cut off by Geralt stepping into the room, using his witcher abilities to close door as he moved towards her. 

"What--" before she could think, his mouth was on hers, his arms around her. She hesitated for the briefest moment before melting into him.  
Her hands made separate journeys, one traveling over his back, ass, and arm; while the other ran fingers through his damp hair, felt the stubble on his jaw and the muscles beneath as they moved. 

Geralt's arms tightened around her at the feeling of her hands exploring his body, the feeling of hers pressed against him. He lifted her up and carried her the small distance to the bed, laying her down, his body on hers.  
Her legs parted and wrapped around his waist, her hands now grabbing his ass to force their bodies closer together.  
He breathed her in while he kissed her. Her smell of lavender, the way she tasted like wine; the feeling of her body against his. 

Growling low in his throat, he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head, before pulling down the top of her dress.  
Her breasts were ample in size, the nipples firm. He kissed the skin from her neck, down her chest, and pulled one of the taut peaks into his mouth.  
Her hands in his hair and the low moan from her lips drove him further down pulling the dress down and off; he kissed her stomach, then then hips, before tasting the center of her body. The sweet and heady combination pulling another deep growl from his chest, causing her to arch her back, thighs closing around him.  
Sitting up, he kissed his way back up her body. Kissing her deeply, his hand reached down to the center of her body, her legs falling open weakly as he circled her clit with his fingertips. Teasing her opening, he watched her- eyes shut, head back, one hand in her hair, the other covering his hand, working with him. Plunging his fingers deep inside, he caught her gasp in another kiss. His fingers circled and swirled as she writhed beneath him, small moans escaping her lips. Rocking her hips against his hand her breathing quickened and grew ragged before a loud moan broke free as she came. 

Grabbing his face in her hands, Sorrea pulled him closer to her, kissing him like her life depended on it. Pushing him onto his back, she straddled his hips, hands feeling every inch of his chest and arms that they could. She moved from mouth to jaw, up to his ear, biting it, before kissing down his neck, to his chest, following the path of black hair down past his navel. Kissing and nipping at his hips, she worked his pants down, letting him toss them aside.  
She gently ran the pads of her fingers up and down the length of his cock, pulling shivers and groans from his body. Grasping him fully in her hand, she took him into her mouth. His loud growl and hand in her hair spurred her on, growing faster. 

Geralt couldn't handle it anymore. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to straddle him again. Positioning himself, he kissed her as he entered her, her body taking the entire length and girth of his cock. He growled at the feeling of her warm body sheathed around him, reveling in hearing her deep satisfied moans. She shuddered before slowly rocking her hips back and forth. He grabbed her ass, feeling the soft round flesh give under his fingers. 

Sorrea moaned at the feeling of Geralt inside her, hands on her ass. She kissed him before sitting up, moving faster. She bit her lip as she reached a hand down to circle her clit, feeling the tension in her body rising. She switched speed to long slow strokes, moaning with every move.  
Geralt watched her take control of their joint pleasure, and it only made him want it more. The way she bit her lip made his cock harder than it already was, and he needed to feel a release from his own rising tension.  
Grunting, he pushed her hips. Moving her harder down his cock. Her breath hitched and she layed against him. The feeling of her bare breasts against him drove him to the edge, and he slammed into her over and over. 

Sorrea nearly collapsed from the feeling. Taking a deep breath. She felt her orgasm wash over her in a flood of ecstacy.  
Hearing her come, her satisfied moan I'm his ear, he pushed into her one last time, growling with the force of his own orgasm. 

Sweaty and satiated, they collapsed, both panting, their bodies tangled together. Sorrea took several deep breaths before rolling over, leaving her head on his shoulder, one leg across his body. His arm wrapped around her, fingers trailing up and down her arm.  
Neither spoke, merely breathing and existing.

Geralt could hear her breathing slowing as she drifted off to sleep. He held her hand that was laying on his chest, feeling the soft skin against his rough hands. He didn't want to leave the bed, the room, this town, any time soon. Sounds of people in the tabern below, and the smell of lavender soon lulled him to sleep, arms around the first thing he never wanted to let go.


End file.
